


Caroline and the Color Orange

by KateOleson



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Regency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 18:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateOleson/pseuds/KateOleson
Summary: Caroline Bingley and her favorite color.





	Caroline and the Color Orange

Caroline Bingley had loved the color orange since she was a little girl. It was so warm and happy. She was drawn to the color. She wanted to bathe in its happy warmth. If she could have gotten her parents to agree to painting her room, she would have painted it orange. Sighing at her reflection in the mirror, she looked at the dress her abigail had selected for the day. It was a pretty blue dress that made her look particularly well. Madame Fournier [born Marie Hectorie Simone Chevrolet. Her paternal grandfather had decreed she would be a boy and her parents, accordingly, planned to name their son after his two uncles (Hector and Simon). So shocked was he when informed that his grandson was actually a granddaughter, Pere Chevrolet had exclaimed, “Sainte Marie Mère de Dieu!” Her parents, assuming he was indicating his preference for a female Christian name, added Marie to the now feminized uncle's names.] was an excellent modiste. She had decided opinions about what looked good on a woman. The dress contained no orange. Caroline thought back to her first appointment when she was nineteen and preparing for her first season. 

Caroline had gone to the shop with an aunt, and was thrilled to be in such a sophisticated, grown up environment. She was excited to discuss colors and fabrics with the famed modiste. Madame had swept into the little room and sized her up in an instant. 

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle Bingley.” Louisa had recently married Hurst and Caroline was enjoying the elevation in address. “I understand you are preparing for your first season in London? Oui?”

“Yes, Madame. I need a number of dresses and was looking forward to discussing fabrics and colors with you.” 

“Très bien. What colors were you thinking of?”

“I love orange-”

“Non!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Non. No, Mademoiselle.” She wagged a finger. “No orange for you.”

“But why ever not? I love it. It is such a warm and-”

“I said non, Mlle Bingley. And you must trust me on this. This color, it will not suit you.”

“But I have loved it since I was three and learned what colors were. How can you say it does not suit without even seeing it on me?”

“Because it is my job to know these things, Mademoiselle.”

“But how do you know? It might look quite well on me. I must see for myself!”

Madame sighed and went to the door. Opening it, she leaned out and said to a young woman passing by, “Dorcas, apportez-moi s'il vous plaît le rouleau de soie orange. Merci.” She stepped back into the room and closed the door. They waited only a minute or two before the young woman- Dorcas, Caroline presumed- returned with a bolt of orange silk. It was beautiful and Caroline’s face lit up. “Here, Mlle Bingley. I will show you why this is not your color.” Madame indicated for Caroline to step up in front of the mirror. Madame unrolled several feet of fabric and held it in front of Caroline’s face. “Voilà!” Caroline and her aunt gasped. She looked awful! It washed her out, clashed with her hair and skin, and made her look sallow. Caroline collapsed in a chair and wept. She couldn’t escape the feeling of being betrayed by her longest love. But there was no denying it. Orange was most definitely not her color. 

“I do not understand,” she wept. “It is a color that has always made me happy. It is so friendly. How could it be so unfriendly on me?” Her aunt handed her a handkerchief.

"Je ne saurais pas vous le dire. I am so very sorry, Mademoiselle. But do not despair. We shall find colors that do not make you look both wretched and dead.” Caroline wept harder. Madame sighed. She waved a hand. “Perhaps we could find ways to incorporate it on some dresses- at the hip, hem and in between- places nowhere near your face!... Then, well.” A shoulder shrug. “Perhaps.” Caroline, sensible enough to recognize an olive branch when she heard one, nodded her head, dried her eyes and began considering dresses in earnest. 

By the time Caroline and her aunt had left, she had an order for twenty new dresses, in beautiful colors and sumptuous fabrics. But only one, a blue day dress, had any hint of orange on it.

*******

copyright 2018 Katelyn Hovind writing as KateOleson. All rights reserved.

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